Merry mediocrity

I’m not afraid to ruffle some feathers. This column has been a small, public vent for one Sydney lesbian’s spleen for several years. I’ve tackled some serious issues -“ Christian freaks on The Amazing Race; the way gay men can never remember lesbians even after they’ve met them, like, 500,000 times; being a big dyke at the Magic Cave -“ and come out unscathed.

I’ve even weathered the recent Brokeback-Gate, in which I suggested I’d rather see Nanny McPhee than Brokeback Mountain, and got hate mail from all over the world. In response, yes, I’ve seen the stupid cowboys and yes, it’s a top movie.

But this column might be my most controversial ever. I’m going to put on the record that I had a good time at Friday night’s Mardi Gras launch.

Before anyone asks, yes, I actually went. And yes, I was in as full command of my mental capacities as ever. No, I was not privy to any mythical Mardi Gras VIP treatment, having gladly paid my $10 like everyone else.

Anyways, like every year I settled on to a giant tarp with 100 of my most-distant friends, and commenced an 11-month catch-up that lasted several hours.

Despite sitting very close to the stage, I didn’t see any of the entertainment, listen to any of the speeches or watch any of the videos. I didn’t use the portaloos or wait in the bar queue more than once.

In short, I took advantage of the one thing that five years of underwhelming Mardi Gras launches have taught me -“ don’t expect to be entertained.

Dancing with a male Mardi Gras vollie at the Deckbar girls’ party after the launch -“ the only place in town he could go, he said, without being beaten up by gays -“ I told him not to worry, I’d had a good time.

People forget, I said, that the launch is always crap.

Okay, the launch isn’t always crap. There have been some funny, hilarious or inspiring moments over the years. But in reality it’s always the poor cousin in the family of major events that make up the festival.

And by the time we’ve all been burned to a crisp/ rained on at Fair Day and watched/ marched in/ ignored the parade and had the biggest night of the year at the party or whatever else is on that night/ the next day, it’s all basically forgotten by mid-March. Bring it on!